


Loss

by Anonymous



Category: Undertale (Video Game), モブサイコ100 | Mob Psycho 100
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, Car Accidents, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Disassociation, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Mpreg mention joke but dont worry i would never actually, brief mention of papyrus minegishi and hatori, hot dog baby, incel!shimazaki, so much cursing, yeah i really did that bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 15:32:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19276186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: crow's hell sansazaki fanfic that was written as a joke and then i ended up writing way too much for itthis is a tribute to loss.jpgnon beta read . . . DUH





	Loss

   Shimazaki had been in the waiting room for over 6 hours now.  
  
   His hands clutching together, he pensively sat in the itchy, uncomfortable chair, listening to the footsteps of nurses and patients walk past him. Although he could not see them, he could sense the symphatizing and pitying glances people gave him as they walked by. He wanted to kill them. Make them run, scream, cry. Just do anything other than stare at him. But he didn't even have the energy to scoff at them. He felt too numb. Like his soul had been drained out of him.  
    
  It had been 5 in the evening when he got the phone call.  
  It was just like any other day. Get up, kiss Sans goodbye, go to work, beat up some innocent people, act like a jackass, make fun of Hatori and Minegishi, come home. He had even decided to not teleport today, instead choosing to walk on the roads among the rabble, enjoying the gentle, warm sunlight while feeling superior being so close to such . . . commoners. He had entered his apartment's lobby, gone up on the elevator, and had opened the door to his  apartment and walked inside. He didn't hear the sound of Sans' slippers shuffling across the floor to greet him, or the sound of rattling bones as Sans snoozed on the sofa, as he usually did. But he didn't pay it much attention. They were at that comfortable stage in their relationship where they trusted each other enough to not feel too anxious when the other was away, knowing that they could both sufficiently take care of themselves. So he shucked off his shoes, made himself comfortable on the couch, and turned on the TV to hear whatever the hell they were talking about on the local news.  
  
   3 o' clock. It had been 2 hours since he had come home, and Sans had still not come back from wherever he had gone to. There wasn't much on the news channel - it had been a slow day, so they just kept repeating the same 3 stories over and over again - and Shimazaki was on the verge of drowsing off when he heard his phone ringing. He took it out of his pocket, and answered the call through Siri.  
  
   "Who the hell is this."  
    
    "Sir, you were listed as Sans Undertale's first emergency contact?"  
  
    Shimazaki immediately stiffened. His senses suddenly felt hyper-aware, becoming sensitive to everything around him. He turned off the TV, hand trembling as he set the remote back down on the couch. He could feel the air stifle in his lungs, the blood freeze in his veins. His throat clenched, as he asked, in a barely-strained voice:  
  
    "Yes. I'm his first emergency contact."  
    
   The caller's voice was calmingly smooth, and clinical. He detested it.  
  
    "Sir, you need to get down to the Salt City Hospital immediately. Mr. Undertale has just been in a severe car accident, and he is in critical condition. He is conscious."  
  
   Shimazaki could recall the exact second that his heart came to a complete stop.  
  
    "I'll be arriving immediately."  
  
    "Sir-"  
   
   He cut off the call, not waiting to hear the rest of what she was going to say. He stood up, and immediately teleported to the hospital's entrance.  
  
   He banged open the doors, scaring a family who had been huddled together near the entrance. He ran in, and sensed the aura of the lady at the front desk. Not even raising a brow at the fact that a psychic was working as a reception clerk at a hospital, he slammed his hands on the counter, and asked, his voice almost frantic,  
  
"Which room has Sans Undertale been sent to? I'm his first emergency contact."  
  
  The lady at the counter sighed.  
  
"You're not permitted in the actual room just yet, you'll have to wait in the waiting room. It's that way."  
  
  She pointed to his right, and Shimazaki stood there, waiting.  
  
"Miss, if you haven't fucking noticed, I'm sort of fucking blind."  
  
  She rolled her eyes, not caring he couldn't see her.  
  
"It's to your right."  
  
  As he marched off, narrowly avoiding people and medical contraptions in the hallway, he swore he would come back and punch that receptionist in the solar plexus.

  He ran his hands along the wall of the hallway, checking each sign's braille to see if it was the right room. After 10 minutes, he finally reached the waiting room, and knocked the door open, again scaring a family that was standing near the entrance. As he marched forward, trying to sense Sans' aura to see where he was being kept, he heard footsteps walk up to him and a hand tentatively touch his shoulder.  
  
  "Sir, are you Ryo Shimazaki? I'm afraid we can't let you meet the patient just yet, sir."  
  
  His teeth gritting, Shimazaki turned to the male nurse, trying to give him the most bone-chilling stare he had, while not knowing exactly where his eyes were.  
  
 "You don't tell me what to damn do, you understand me, you filthy fucking normie?"  
  
  The nurse sighed.  
  
 "Save the incellery and the explosive rage for later. If you walk in right now to his room, Sans' state of distress will only worsen. Are you going to selfishly sacrifice his chances for survival with your own reckless actions?"  
  
  Shimazaki kept glaring at his vague direction. Then he marched off, shoved a man sitting in one of the chairs in the waiting room off, and took his seat, ignoring the man's suddenly pissed off aura.  
  
  And there he had sat. It was around 10 pm now, he judged, estimating the amount of time that had passed. Most of the people in the waiting room had left by this point, and the male nurse occasionally came back to the room to call out someone's name, so they could go and see the patient they were waiting for.  
  
   His anger had died off a long time ago. His feelings had simmered down from their explosive outburst, and now he felt cold, and lifeless. All he could think about was Sans. What state was he in right now? What did he say to him last? Had he truly expressed how much he loved him before he walked out the door? Could he have done anything different? Could he have been more aware? More wary? He should've caught the signs. He should've been more anxious. He should've stopped being such a careless jackass. At least give him a call. Check up, ask how he was holding up. Know if he was okay. He bitterly was reminded of how he had been in such a good, stupidly naive mood that afternoon. Like some fucking idiot normie, blundering about on the streets, making an ass out of himself. God, what had he been thinking? What had been going on in his mind? He had truly fucked up in every sense of the word. Letting his guard down. And now here he was, sitting in this normie waiting room, filled with normies going on about their normie lives -  
  
"Ryo Shimazaki? You can see the patient now."  
  
  He stood up, not bothering to point out the ironic nature of that sentence, his pulse suddenly hammering, his palms sweating. He felt like he had been floating in a dream, only to be hit with cold, crashing water. The reality of the situation had truly settled in. He was going to meet Sans. He walked over to the nurse, who offered him his arm to guide him. Shimazaki pushed it away, and waited for the nurse to start walking, and followed the sound of his footsteps.  
  
  The nurse opened the door. He let Shimazaki walk through the entranceway. The beeps of the hospital equipment was what he first noticed. Like they were mocking him, he thought, unable to personify objects without becoming cynical and edgy like a teenager discovering Reddit forumns for the first time. The nurse silently closed the door behind him.  
  
  Shimazaki heard the rattle of bones, as Sans shifted awake from where he was lying on the hospital bed. He rasped,  
  
  ". . . R-ryo?"  
  
  "H . . . how are you?" Shimazaki asked, voice stuttering as he struggled to push out the words into the open air.  
  
  ". . . Not fucking good at all, what do you think, jackass?" Sans snarked, and Shimazaki let himself smile for the first time while he was in the hospital.  
  
  ". . . Yeah, I guess that was sort of a stupid question," Shimazaki mumbled, putting his hands into his jean pockets.

The two stayed there in silence for what was probably only 5 minutes, but felt even longer than the time that Shimazako had spent in the waiting room.  
  
Finally, Shimazaki spoke up, asking the dreaded question that both of them knew he was going to ask.  
  
"How's . . . the baby."  
  
 Sans slowly closed his eyes. He clutched his stomach. A tear fell down his skull.  
  
 "Hot Dog didn't make it."  
  
Shimazaki's hands hovered over Sans, wanting to comfort him. More salty, salty tears fell down Sans' face.  
  
 "It's just . . .  he was so delicious-looking. And I was getting tired of carrying him around my pocket the whole time. Then I got run over by Papyrus' racecar . . . and I was so tired and hungry . . . so. I ate him. A bit gross, especially the bun, 'cause I was carrying him around for so long."  
  
Shimazaki stared up at the ceiling, feeling tears start to well up in the blackness of his vision. His voice audibly cracked.  
  
"God damn it Sans, that was our fucking final project for the parenting unit. What the hell are we gonna do now when we have to go up to the teacher and show them our stupid hot dog so that she knows we're gonna be good parents or whatever. Jesus fucking christ Sans, what type of message are you trying to send? That we're the type of parents who will eat their babies in crises? . . . Why the hell did she even choose a hot dog anyway? And not like. A fake baby. Or hell, even an egg. Something traditional. Why a fucking hot dog?"  
  
Sans full-out sobbed, his voice tilted in a half-joking, half-serious question.  
  
"Are you that mad with me, bro?"  
  
Shimazaki instantly softened, and he moved down to hug Sans, the two of their faces' disgustingly covered with tears and snot.  
  
"God fucking damn it Sans, you know I could never be mad at you, you dumb fucking bastard," Shimazaki whispered, burying his face into his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, I know, it was just a joke lol," Sans said, but his relieved grin said otherwise. He then slapped Shimazaki on the arm. "Anyway, get off me, it's been literally 6 hours since I got run over and you're probably reopening some of my wounds."  
  
Shimazaki slowly stood back up.  
  
"How does that even work anyway? Sans, you're literally a skeleton. You're bones. Literally bones."  
  
Sans shrugged, wincing as his ribs creaked with the motion.  
  
"Ask Game Theory. I have no clue. All I know is that my tears right now are just hotdog water."  
  
"Ugh. Gross," Shimazaki said, wiping his hands on the bedsheets.  
  
"You don't get to judge, with your slimy goddamn hair gel and greasy clothes and shit. Literally, you look like you jumped into a bathtub full of Vaseline and got back out, ready to face the day."  
  
"My style's cool as shit, bro, unlike yours," Shimazaki said, jeering.  
  
"How would you know? Shimazaki, you're literally blind. You're no eyes, bro. Literally no eyes."  
  
"I'm a psychic, I can sense auras. And my coolness aura? Next to yours? It's a joke, really," Shimazaki bantered back.  
  
"Aight, sounds fake but okay," Sans muttered. "Hey, I'm gonna go back to faking I'm in sleep now. This hospital bed's so much better than the sofa."  
  
"I mean, you could just literally sleep in your own bed, like bro . . ." Shimazaki muttered. But Sans was already fake-asleep.  
  
"Bro? Bro. Sans. Fuckface. Sans! Dude . . . . . . okay, whatever. Pretend you can't hear me then. Have fun with that. I'm gonna leave now," said Shimzaki, in an annoyed tone. He walked towards the door, and walked out, closing it behind him and making sure to audibly make his footsteps as loud as possible as he walked away from the room. He then paused, and teleported back in, silently sitting down on the chair next to Sans' bed.  
  
"You know I can hear you teleporting in, right?" Sans muttered.  
  
"I thought you were supposed to be asleep, bastard?" Shimazaki said back. But Sans' fake-snores cut off any more comebacks.  
  
Shimazaki then decided to take a fake-nap of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck you c slur


End file.
